13
Considering she’d made the firm decision she was done with Zayne forever, Agatha was amazed by how much fury was currently sizzling through her body as she watched Dot reach up and plant another kiss on Zayne’s cheek.
She wasn’t quite certain whom she was more furious with, though—Dot, for being Dot, or Zayne, for doing absolutely nothing to discourage the woman.
Opening her mouth, to say . . . what, she really had no idea, she managed to get out, “This is not remotely appropriate . . .” before Dot laughed again, patted Zayne’s face, and strangely enough, grabbed one of his crutches away from him. Tucking herself under his arm where his crutch had recently been, she grinned, looking completely delighted with herself.
“How silly of me to greet you so enthusiastically, Mr. Beckett, when it’s clear what you really need is a good chair to sit in.”
Dot nodded to Agatha. “Shall I take him to our table, Stanley?” Not giving Agatha a chance to respond, Dot began wobbling away on incredibly high heels, leaving Zayne no choice but to step forward as well since Dot seemed remarkably strong and determined to take him with her. He cast Agatha a look that clearly begged for help, right before Dot pushed him past some rowdy patrons and disappeared from view.
Stepping forward to go after them, she found herself pulled to an abrupt stop when someone grabbed hold of her arm.
“Don’t even think about it, Stanley.”
Lifting her gaze, she found Francis glaring back at her, with Theodore glaring in exactly the same way over Francis’s shoulder. She summoned up a smile. “Fancy meeting the two of you here—and Zayne, of course. But, ah, speaking of Zayne, I should probably go check on him.”
“Not before you explain what you’re doing here,” Francis said, taking a much firmer grip on her arm than was strictly necessary.
She tried to shake him off. “Zayne doesn’t know how to handle Dot.”
“Agreed, but I need explanations before you begin hovering over the man, which I know you’ll do if only to escape my irritation with you.”
“I wasn’t planning on hovering.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Francis said before he surprised her by releasing his hold on her, only to pat her arm a second later. “But that has nothing to do with why you left the house without me.”
“I needed some air.”
“Was there something wrong with the air in the back garden—you know, the garden with the high walls that keep you reasonably safe?”
“I’m sure the air was fine back there, but . . . Oh, very well, if you must know, there’s a small matter of business I needed to attend to, a matter that will finally allow me some closure.”
“Should I assume you thought I’d stand in the way of this closure?”
“Since I knew I’d have to travel to disreputable places in order to find the answers I need, yes, I thought you would stop me from coming out tonight.”
Francis frowned. “My job is, first and foremost, to keep you safe, but I’m not unreasonable, Agatha, nor would I have balked too much about escorting you here tonight. You’ve become a friend of sorts to me, and while it is my duty to keep you alive, I truly don’t want to see you unhappy. I can protect you, but you have to let me know your plans.”
Agatha blinked. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I was about to ask that very question,” Theodore said, stepping around Francis even as he began to scowl at her. “Francis might be willing to appease your every whim at the moment, my dear, which is rather odd, but believe me, I’m not. I expect you to promise me here and now that there’ll be no more of this type of business until we figure out who is trying to kill you.”
“I’m not promising you any such thing.”
Theodore stiffened, but before he could argue, Dot teetered back up to them, sent Theodore a smile, and set her sights on Francis.
“Mr. Blackheart, it’s been far too long since I’ve seen your handsome face,” Dot breathed before she launched herself at him and attached her lips to his.
Feeling strangely mollified by the sight of Dot accosting a gentleman other than Zayne, Agatha took a step forward to give Francis some assistance. She stopped when he managed to break away from the now pouting woman and held her at arms’ length. “Get ahold of yourself, Dot,” he growled.
“Now, now,” Dot crooned with a waggle of her fingers, “there’s no need to get stuffy. I was only welcoming you home. Mr. Beckett didn’t cause such a fuss.”
“Yes, well, Zayne gets a bit bemused when it comes to dealing with ladies, especially unconventional ones, and by the look on his face when you led him away, he appeared to be in shock.”
Even though she was exceedingly annoyed with Zayne, she couldn’t help grinning just a little over Francis’s comment. Zayne really did seem to be bemused by ladies, herself included, but . . . No, she was not going to allow her thoughts to travel in that direction, because then she’d start excusing his behavior. He’d broken her heart too many times now, and she’d vowed that she wasn’t going to allow him an opportunity to ever do that again, but he was . . .
Drusilla suddenly brushed past her, interrupting the silent lecture Agatha had been giving herself. Considering her friend was currently sporting elongated mutton chops on her delicate face, she made a rather intimidating picture as she drew herself up and glared at Dot.
“While I certainly understand that your past occasionally comes back to haunt you, Dot,” Drusilla began, “we’re in the midst of a business meeting. Since it now appears as if our other business associates, if you will, have decided to join us, you’re going to have to stop throwing yourself at them so we can continue on with . . . business. If you don’t, I’ll go elsewhere for information and you won’t see a penny of the money I promised you.”
“Jealousy is unbecoming in a woman,” Dot said with a sniff before she sent Francis a wink, blew a kiss to Theodore, and sashayed her way back to where she’d apparently stashed Zayne.
“What do you think she meant by that?” Francis asked to no one in particular.
Agatha was certain Dot had noticed the clear temper in Drusilla’s eyes, brought on no doubt by witnessing Dot launching herself at Francis. But, since this was hardly the time or place to delve into any type of matchmaking, she simply shrugged. “It’s Dot. Who knows what she means by most of the things she says.”
“She is a character,” Theodore said before he gestured forward with his hand. “Shall we go join her at the table and continue on with whatever business the three of you are conducting?”
“You’re not going to force me out of here?”
“There’s no need for such dramatics, Agatha. Because you’re here, and there’s apparently a reason for that, I’m going to forget that you caused us no small amount of anxiety tonight, but do know that I’m not exactly happy with you.”
“I’m not exactly happy with you either, Theodore, especially since you keep calling me Agatha when I’m supposed to be Stanley—and Drusilla’s Mort.”
“You look nothing like a Stanley,” Theodore said before he took her arm, which caused her to roll her eyes and send that arm a pointed look.
“Oh, right.” Theodore grinned and dropped his hold on her, although he kept remarkably close to her as they made their way through the pub. Drusilla followed with Francis, mutters of jealousy and crazy ladies floating between them.
They reached a back table, where Dot was already sitting with Zayne. Agatha took the farthest seat away from them, waiting until everyone sat down before she nodded to Dot. “Why don’t you start back at the beginning so everyone will know what we’re talking about?”
Dot leaned forward, although she trailed a finger down Zayne’s arm as she did so. Taking that finger and using it to stir the drink she had in front of her, she smiled. “Well, to catch everyone up, Stanley and Mort approached me tonight, revealed their true identities— although I’d recognized Stanley straight away—and told me they were interested in learning about three ladies—Mary, Jessie, and Hannah—as well as another matter that I’ll tell you about later.” She paused and took a sip of her drink. “Fortunately for them, and for me since they said they’d pay for good information, I’m acquainted with those women.”
“The two of you are trying to track down Mary and her girls?” Zayne asked, shooting a glare Agatha’s way, which she staunchly ignored.
“Continue, Dot, if you please,” she said.
Dot smiled. “Thank you. As I have just recently told Mort and Stanley, Mary’s a hired assassin.”
Silence settled over the table, and then Theodore leaned forward. “There’s no talk on the streets about an assassin by the name of Mary.”
“’Course there’s not. She’s not from around here, and the only reason I know of her and her girls is because she hid out a few years ago at a brothel I used to work in. I was actually surprised she gave her real name to all of you out in Colorado, but I imagine she must have done so because she didn’t think any of you were going to live to tell the tale.”
“And you’re sure she gets paid to kill people?” Theodore pressed.
“From what I remember, yes, but I have to wonder how good she is at her job since Stanley over there is still alive, even though she’s run into Mary twice.”
“That’s a reassuring thought,” Francis muttered.
“Do you know where she is now?” Theodore asked.
“No, but I’ll ask around. If I were to hazard a guess though, she’s probably long gone. I heard about the ruckus at B. Altman’s, and since what happened is all over town, including that bit about the pig, I would think Mary and her girls wouldn’t stick around. It’ll be too dangerous for them to move throughout the city.”
“But they won’t get paid if they don’t finish their job,” Theodore said slowly.
“Excellent observation, Mr. Wilder.” Dot winked at Theodore. “That must be why you’re such a sought-after investigator.”
“I must be losing my touch, because if I’d simply checked in with you sooner, I would’ve discovered more information than I’ve uncovered in months.”
“I do tend to have a mountain of information at my fingertips, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been awfully neglectful of late, but I suppose that’s due to your delightful Arabella’s condition.” Dot winked again. “Do make certain you give Arabella my regards. I’m in the midst of knitting a precious baby blanket for her, but that’s supposed to be a surprise, so just keep that to yourself.”
Agatha leaned across Drusilla, who’d taken the seat right next to her. “The image of you knitting, Dot, is one I truly never imagined, but getting back to the business at hand, would you have any idea who might have hired these women to kill me?”
“I’m afraid there are numerous people in the city right now who might want to see you dead, darling, what with all those brilliant yet all too truthful articles you write,” Dot said. “Even though you write under a man’s name, I’m afraid people have made it their business to discover your true identity.” She smiled. “I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve written and really must thank you for bringing to light all the injustices we of the unfortunate class suffer.”
Dot’s smile disappeared in a flash. “I do read.” Reaching across the table, she patted Agatha’s hand. “The article you did about women walking the streets in order to put food on the table is what helped me turn my back on that life. You pointed out, at least to me, that there was a better way, and while working in a pub is still somewhat sketchy, it’s more pleasant than my other life. You also helped me realize that I’m not alone in this world, and you did so without preaching. You did it in a way that allowed me to reach out to God through that delightful Reverend Fraser.
“Although I readily admit I’m still a bit of a sinner at times, I’m growing. And for that, you have my thanks.” Dot smiled once again. “I believe, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, that you’ve been given a gift from God for the written word, and I hope you remember that, even when you’re faced with people wanting you dead.”
Agatha’s vision blurred as Dot’s words sunk in. She’d always hoped that her articles would help someone, somewhere, and evidently they had. Wiping eyes that were now leaking, she let out a sniff, which had Dot rolling her eyes.
“Don’t get all weepy on me or I’ll lose respect for you,” Dot said, although she whipped a handkerchief out of the bodice of her dress and passed it over.
Dabbing her eyes with it, Agatha looked up and found Zayne watching her with an expression of complete understanding on his face, that expression making her eyes well up again.
He’d always understood her, but it had been made all too clear that he wasn’t ready for the type of commitment she longed from him, even if he had asked her in a peculiar sort of way to marry him.
Tearing her gaze from his, she looked around the table. “Well, I suppose we’ve made some progress here tonight, at least as pertains to Mary and her girls.”
“If she’s truly an assassin, you’re in more danger than we imagined,” Theodore said.
“As Dot said, it’s highly unlikely she’s still in the city.”
“As Theodore mentioned, assassins don’t get paid until they complete the job,” Francis countered, catching her eye. “You’ll have to leave the city.”
“I won’t leave, not again. Whoever wants me dead has taken too much from me as it is. I was forced to stay away from my family and friends for a year. I missed births and anniversaries and . . . everything.” She blew out a breath. “We’ve been going about it all wrong. I—”
Zayne let out a grunt. “Absolutely not.”
“She hasn’t said anything yet,” Theodore pointed out.
“She doesn’t have to,” Zayne returned. “She wants to offer herself up as bait.”
Agatha’s mouth went slack. “How did you know that?”
“Because I know you, and I’m right, aren’t I?”
Pushing aside the pesky realization that his knowing her so well had caused her heart to lurch yet again, Agatha forced a shrug. “It’s the only way to put an end to this, and since I understand what I’m facing, I’ll be prepared.”
“You can’t be prepared for an assassin, Agatha,” Zayne argued. “They’re stealthy.”
“Mary’s not.”
“The person who hired her certainly is, since Theodore hasn’t been able to track that person down—and he’s been trying for over a year.”
“Which is exactly why I’m going to stop hiding and go out in the open. I’m not willing to live my life skulking in the shadows for the rest of my days, and this is the only way I’ll be able to reclaim it.”
“I can’t allow it,” Theodore said.
“I don’t need your permission, Theodore, but I would appreciate your help.”
“Is this what you meant when you told me you came out tonight to seek closure?” Francis asked.
“Not exactly,” Agatha said, carefully avoiding Zayne’s gaze.
“What do you mean, not exactly?” Francis demanded. “What else are you up to?”
“I’d rather not say until the boy we sent out with a message returns.” She looked at the watch she’d pinned to the underside of her sleeve. “But he’s been gone over an hour, so I hope we’ll have an answer soon.”
“An answer to what?”
“Why, the answer just walked through the door,” Dot said, rising to her feet and gesturing to the dirty boy making his way through the crowd. He pushed his way through the patrons and stopped beside their table.
“Did you have any luck?” Agatha asked.
“I did, and he’s right outside,” the boy said.
“Who is right outside?” Zayne demanded.
Ignoring the fact that her heart had taken to aching, Agatha squared her shoulders. She’d known the minute Zayne had professed his fondness for her that she had to give up her hopes and dreams of spending her life with the man. She could no longer deny that she was in love with him, but she needed him to return that love, and he . . . didn’t.
It was time to firmly put him aside and get on with her life, a life that was meant to be spent pursuing her stories and trying to correct injustices against people like Dot. Dot’s words had resonated within her very soul, and she knew God had sent those words to her to remind her that, yes, her heart was broken once again, but her hands and her mind weren’t. She needed to move on, move forward, and she was going to have to do that without Zayne.
But she’d promised God clear back in Colorado that she’d help Zayne recover, and this—what was waiting outside the pub—was the last piece he needed to truly heal.
“Would you go invite him in?” she asked the messenger, who nodded and hurried away.
“What are you up to, Agatha?” Zayne asked.
“I think we might have found Willie.”
“Who?”
“Willie Higgins, the man you bought your mine from.”
“I’d forgotten all about him.”
The corners of her mouth curled. “Well, we have been busy of late, and you have been stuck in bed and plagued with mysterious illnesses, but I didn’t forget.”
For some reason, Zayne’s eyes began to blaze. “You have to stop trying to put me and my life to rights, Agatha. Coming here tonight was beyond idiotic, and that you did so because of me . . . Well, I won’t stand for it anymore.”
“You won’t have to,” she said softly right as a man with his hat in his hand and looking rather careworn stepped up to the table. His gaze darted around and settled on Zayne.
“Mr. Beckett,” the man exclaimed. “Good heavens, sir, what are you doing here?”
Zayne’s eyes cooled immediately. “Mr. Higgins, how nice to see you again. I’m apparently here to meet you.”
Willie Higgins frowned. “That messenger didn’t say anything about you, Mr. Beckett. The boy just told me that there was a matter of business to be discussed, and I thought, given that I let the owner of this pub know I’m in need of a job, that he’d found one for me.”
“That’s how I knew, when Agatha asked about Willie Higgins, where to find him,” Dot said speaking up as she smiled at Agatha.
Willie switched his attention to Agatha and frowned, causing Agatha to grin. “No need to fret, Mr. Higgins. I am indeed Agatha. I’m just in disguise.”
“How . . . interesting,” Mr. Higgins muttered before he looked back to Zayne and suddenly seemed a little nervous. “I take it the mine turned out to be a bust?”
“He’s not here to ask for his money back,” Agatha quickly reassured the man. “In fact, since you brought up needing a position, I do think you’ll soon find you have no need to continue searching for one.” Rising from her chair, she moved to Willie’s side, patted his arm, and turned and caught Zayne’s eye. “You’ll take matters from here?”
Zayne frowned. “You’re not staying?”
“There’s really no need. I’ve done what I promised to do, and now it’s time for me to leave.” She turned and nodded to Francis. “I’m not feeling too well at the moment, Francis, and I’d appreciate it if you’d see me home.”
Pretending not to see the looks of concern being sent her way, especially coming from Zayne, she waited for Francis to reach her side, took the arm he offered her, even though she knew they looked rather strange since she was disguised as a man, and with her head held high walked out of the pub.